The Pain of Friendship
by Mother Nature
Summary: *OLD - DISCONTINUED* While the Three Hunters are traveling through Fangorn forest, searching for Merry and Pippin, they are suddenly surprised. Both pleasantly and unpleasantly. A Legolas fic. R&R PLEASE! : Unfinished but Discontinued
1. Danger and Dreams

1.1.1.1 Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, or the original story "Lord of the Rings" by Tolkien. The particular idea of THIS story though, is mine. ALL MINE, I SAY!  
  
Author's Note: Ummm, yeah. Like usual, CC is very welcome and as I have said before: Flames will be used to roast marshmallows. ( R&R PLEASE!!! I hope you enjoy it, but if not just know that I wrote it on a whim when I suddenly felt like putting someone in pain. Hehe *sweatdrop* Don't ask, I'm a psycho.  
  
1.1.1.2  
  
1.1.1.3 The Pain of Friendship  
  
  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
The fellowship had broken; the quest had failed. Or so they thought. The remainder of the fellowship of the one ring was on the path to doom, though they did not know it. Aragorn son of Arathorn, Gimli son of Gloin, and Legolas son of Thranduil were on a pathway that led through the forest Fangorn. They were still on their search of Merry and Pippin, but it seemed as though all hope was lost. When they met the Rohan riders and were told of the battle with the Orcs, the riders had told of no Hobbits in the piles of dead or elsewhere, and so the remaining fellowship set out once more, trying feebly to track their lost companions. But they had found a promising trail that led into the dark forest, and all hope was not lost.  
  
Two of the fellowship were already lost forever to the clutches of death, and two more were alone, on their own dire mission. And still yet two more were in the hands of the enemy, painfully alive or dead, was not known. So it was only the last three, who were able to save their companions and keep the quest from falling to disaster. They were traveling slowly through the forest, being very careful every step of the way. Legolas, being a wood elf, was naturally fascinated by the forest. The giant trees were unlike any he had ever seen. They were ancient, so much that even he felt young next to them. The dark green aura of the forest around them was pure and the smell of moist earth and moss-covered wood was thick. Legolas' steps were light, leaving no print of his foot after. His head constantly snapped back and forth, eyes wide, trying to take in all of the magnificent scenery around him. He was completely captivated by its beauty and life; it was as though the ancient trees were somehow alive, and were trying to speak to him, to tell him their story. His joy and curiosity was unbearable; he wanted so to explore. Suddenly the three came upon a giant of trees, the father of all the forest wood brothers, the oldest of them all. Legolas could not contain himself, with a gasp at its elegant beauty he swiftly ran over to it, the grace of his elven legs carried him with the speed of the wind.  
  
"Legolas, no!" Aragorn yelled out to him, voice ringing in the serene quiet of the forest. He knew that Legolas' curiosity had gotten the better of him. He was like a child among all the treasures of the world in this forest of magical, ancient trees. Legolas ignored him, as though he hadn't heard, and so Aragorn and Gimli looked at each other and then followed Legolas to the dark, green covered tree.  
  
When they arrived next to him, they found Legolas was standing motionless in front of the Tree Father, rigid, with his hand out, palm flat against its moss covered bark. His bright blue eyes were closed and his mouth was firm. His fair face looked troubled, and then, slowly, he turned his head to one side, as though he was trying to hear something very far away.  
  
"What is it Legolas?" Gimli was curious to know what troubled an elf such as Legolas.  
  
"My wood brother is speaking to me. It is trying to tell me…" Legolas' pure musical voice, now very soft, trailed of, his brows creasing. Gimli grunted at this, disbelieving that a tree could speak at all, but he was ignored. Aragorn on the other hand, listened to Legolas' words, for he had heard the tales of the elves teaching their forests to speak with them long ago.  
  
"What is it trying to tell you, Legolas?" he asked, taking a step closer to the soft looking tree in front of him, as though he, too, could hear its ancient voice.  
  
"I do not know, I can not understand it; its voice is too soft. I think… I think it has forgotten how to speak, and has fallen back into the sleep of its forefathers. This one is ancient though; one of the first leaves upon the earth when forests were young, and my people were new." Legolas stopped and took a step toward the tree, touching his pointed elven ear against its strong trunk, to listen closer. His mouth tightened, but his eyes, now open, sparkled with a flame of pure bliss and interest, for he was in the forest surrounded by trees and life. After a minute though he brought his head up and shook it, he then started to sing softly a song in his own tongue, which Aragorn heard and translated for Gimli by singing it in the common. It was a song of praise to the forest and all the life it protects within its enclosure. It was a song of its beauty and life, ancient knowledge and wisdom, and the serene power of all the woods. Their patience with the world and creatures upon it was sung of as well in the intricately worded hymn, full of beauty. Gimli and Aragorn were captivated by Legolas' voice as he sang, their eyes never leaving his fair face, until his voice suddenly stopped, and his head turned sharply to the west where was sun was beginning to set, eyes wide. Aragorn and Gimli started, surprised at his sudden movement, then turned quickly to look in the direction Legolas was facing. Gimli, sensing something dark, brought out his well used battle- axe.  
  
Aragorn just glanced at Legolas, "You have the keen senses of your kind; what is it that troubles you?"  
  
"Orcs."  
  
"What!" cried Gimli, anger rising in this throat, "How can there be more Orcs in Fangorn? The riders of Rohan were sure they had killed all of them." Gimli paused his outburst, "How many are there, Legolas?"  
  
"From what I can hear, I count at least a dozen. Be on your guard, they are coming closer." Legolas swiftly pulled out his bow and notched an arrow in it, focusing on the sound of Orcs drawing near. Aragorn took a step forward to stand side by side with Legolas and pulled out his own bow, readying it for the battle to come. Gimli crouched low, so as to be a hard target for enemy archers, and patted his axe, more than ready to shear a few Orc necks.  
  
And suddenly there they were, ten Orcs clear on the path that led through the forest. Three of them were down before they could even take a step, with the arrows of Legolas and Aragorn protruding from them. But those three were not missed and the other seven charged at the companions. It was an easy fight, as Aragorn threw aside his bow to unsheathe his sword, reforged by the elves, to fight close range, and as Gimli swung his axe, cutting and cleaving in every direction. All through this Legolas did not draw his swords but had taken many a step back from the raging Orcs to shoot them down, one by one, with his arrows that flew straight and true. When all threat was limp on the ground, the three companions gathered together by the side of the path to catch their breath. Aragorn solemnly whetted his blade and put it away, but Gimli was much more light of spirit.  
  
"Ah! The blade of my axe has felt naught but my side in a long time, and it grew restless in my hands. It is a good feeling to finally sever the evil bodies of the Orcs again." But even when Legolas would lecture Gimli, a dire little dwarf, on his evil desire to kill, he was silent. Legolas' brow was creased, and he was thinking deeply about something of importance, for the look on his face held worry. Gimli's pleasure and satisfaction evaporated at seeing Legolas, who had still not put away his bow; in fact it seemed to be at the ready. "What is troubling you, my friend?"  
  
"I know I had heard a dozen foot steps, and yet only ten came through the trees…" Legolas looked up, his bright blue eyes met with the brown ones of Aragorn.  
  
Aragorn reached for his bow, head snapping in the direction of the trees, "That means…"  
  
Suddenly, time seemed to move in slow motion as Legolas heard the snap of an arrow being released and the rush of air as it traveled to its target; he could hear its course on the wind. "Get down, Gimli!" he shouted lunging at the undersized creature who was unaware of his own danger, and shooting off an arrow at the trees where the enemy was located at the same time. Legolas was swift, but not quite swift enough, for as he was able to push Gimli out of harms way, he was not able to escape it himself, and the arrow struck him hard in the center of his chest, just inches away from his elvish heart.  
  
Legolas gasped, the sudden pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and with every sharp intake of breath it worsened. Legolas was frozen; his eyes squinting in pain and mouth open, trying to breath in air that wasn't coming. His arms were rigid, and he did not notice when the bow of Galadriel dropped from his hand. Everything around him was dull and blurry, focusing and unfocusing, the pain in his chest was surreal, for the evil poison of Mordor had pierced the pure white soul of an elf; an immortal creature, wise and fair. He was dying with this horrible arrow in his bleeding chest. He looked down at himself and brought his hand up to touch the wet area around the wound, and for the first time, saw his own red-black blood. Sweat was trickling down his face and he could feel his body grow hot with fever. He swayed on his weakening legs and suddenly, Legolas thought he heard someone calling name, but it seemed dull and far away. He felt, as though it was not his own body, arms supporting his weight as his legs buckled and he fell to the ground. His light elven body was moved and laid flat against the forest floor, it sent a jolt through his form and the pain it caused was unbelievable. He cried out, and for a second his surroundings came in focus and he saw leaning over him two familiar faces, both very worried. Then suddenly there was a third face bent over his injured, poisoned form, and he knew for sure he was hallucinating for it was Gandalf, returned.  
  
Legolas' mouth was open trying to breathe in deeply, but he only took in shallow breaths, despite his efforts. He could feel his whole body beginning to go numb and the knowledge of the arrow embedded deep in his chest was unreal and beginning to slip from his mind. He could feel his tense, rigid body begin to loosen as a darkness from far away lands began to grip his soul. But in his ancient, elvish mind he knew what the darkness was and fought it with all the might of his mind, body and soul. A sudden, sharp pain brought him back to semi-consciousness though, as the arrow was ripped from his chest, and Legolas felt some of the darkness trying to surround him exit with it. But almost all his strength was gone now, his heavy eyelids were dropping, and his breath was slowing, when he felt something unknown press into his bleeding wound, making him gasp in pain. He felt strong hands under his head and back supporting him into a semi- upright position. His breathing shallowed and with an effort he opened his eyes halfway, showing that their bright glow was now dimmed to almost nothing. In front of him he saw a blurry vision of two men, a third one he did not see - the one holding him up. One looked strangely like Gandalf the Grey and the small one was surely Gimli son of Gloin, his dear friend. They both looked worn and worried, but at that moment Legolas' strength was completely exhausted and his eyes closed, head falling forward, limp. The numbness was starting to overpower his mind and soon, in all his pain and desperation to stay alive, he went unconscious.  
  
Legolas found himself lying on the ground. He blinked. The pain in his chest was gone and he felt good. Better than he had in a thousand years. But something was wrong, though he could not quite place it. The taste of blood that had been on his tongue was gone. He could feel the earth underneath him, firm and rough. He could smell the trees and distinctive stenches of sweat on his companions. And though he did not see them, knew they were there. He could see the light shining through the canopy of trees and it caused him to squint against its brightness. Suddenly he knew what was wrong. All was silent; he could not hear. He strained his ears, but no sound met them. He saw the boughs of the trees swaying, but he could not hear them speaking to him. He panicked and bolted upright, only to find himself in the dark as pitch caves and caverns of Moria. He shuddered. This place made him uneasy, but for some reason he was calm and did not find the sudden change of location strange.  
  
He caught sight of the pale-yellow eyes of Smeagol behind him. Or Gollum he was called. Legolas curled his lip as he caught whiff of the rotting, dead flesh of dwarf and goblin. This was no place for an elf.  
  
Suddenly he saw Frodo standing in front of him, fear in his innocent eyes, as he held the ring out to him. Legolas took a step back, surprised. His eyes widened as Frodo proceeded to walk toward him, ring out-held. He spoke, but Legolas could not hear him. Frodo spoke again, but this time Legolas read his lips, "Will you not take the ring, dear Legolas?"  
  
Legolas shook his head and backed away, trying to escape the prodding hand and the temptation it held. But Frodo kept moving closer and closer to him. Suddenly, Legolas' foot found an edge. He looked behind him, but there was nothing; he had come to the edge of a cliff; he had reached an end. And suddenly, accidentally, Legolas stepped off. He found himself falling. Deeper and deeper into the darkness.  
  
And then, there was Gandalf returned; right in front of him, shining white. He spoke and finally Legolas could hear him. "Do not be afraid young Elf. You are not as alone and in such dire position as you would think. You have Gimli, a stout friend; and Aragorn, a wise and loyal companion. As a bonus," Gandalf said with a smile, "I have returned."  
  
Legolas was in disbelief, "But you are dead, taken by the Balrog…"  
  
Gandalf chuckled, "Things are not as desperate as they seem. Be calm, be patient; all will be well in time, my friend." With that he was gone.  
  
And then, suddenly, Legolas was on the shore of a beach. The ocean reached endlessly out in front of him. Without thinking he got into a boat anchored nearby and sailed out to sea, not at all disturbed by this unusual happening. Suddenly, the waves lapping against the gray boat all around him were a deep red in color, rather than the grayish green-blue. He was in the middle of a sea of blood! Legolas looked around him, terrified; mortified. Suddenly he felt a weight on his shoulders and chest and looked down at himself to see that he was clad in silver armor. He found his bow in one and his elven white knife in the other; it was stained with red-black blood. He was standing on a great field, surrounded by wounded or dead enemies, crying out to him in hatred and pain. It was a terrible battlefield of blood and death. Suddenly he saw Gimli, son of Gloin, in front of him, dead; he looked down in shock at his hands to find them covered in the blood of his friend dwarf. Legolas cried out in horror and tried to wipe the blood off his fair skin, but no matter what he tried, it would not come off. And then, there was Frodo standing in front of him once again, but instead of the ring, he had a short sword. Legolas felt a sharp pain in his chest as Frodo stabbed him. And as he was falling to the ground, he heard Frodo say, "You are a traitor, dear Legolas." Then his vision blurred white around the edges and all went dark. But alas, he saw his fathers face before him, and heard him say, "Legolas, my son. You shall not fall into darkness; you shall continue on your quest and save your people."  
  
"Yes, Father." Was all Legolas could say. 


	2. Understanding and Repayment

1 CHAPTER 2  
  
Legolas cried out in pain as he woke from his terrible dream, only to feel an unimaginable burning in his chest where the wound was. He struggled to sit up, but he felt iron-strong arms holding him down against the earthen floor. He could feel himself hot with fever, but he ignored it; where was Gimli? Suddenly, there was the face of Aragorn before him, a poultice for the poisoned wound in his hands. The concern and worry on his face was unmistakable, as was the exhaustion. He had stayed up all day and night tending to the dying Legolas. But his work paid off at long last, as Legolas was now awake and would be fine, though at the moment he was delusional.  
  
Aragorn flinched when he heard Legolas cry out as he applied the poultice; he hated to see his elvish friend in pain.  
  
Legolas gasped, the burning sensation in his chest relentless. Suddenly though, in all his pain and deliria, he cried out the name of his friend, who he thought dead from his dream.  
  
"Gimli!" Legolas' voice was horse and not very loud for all the effort had put into that one word. Gimli's head snapped up as he heard his name called softly by his injured friend, and he ran over to the limp form.  
  
As Gimli came into his line of vision, Legolas sighed in relief, not caring if he believed it was truly Gimli or not. But even the thought of trying to talk to him, and the previous exertions since he woke up were too much for the weak, wounded elf; causing him to slip into unconsciousness once again. Thankfully, this time dreamless sleep.  
  
Legolas woke to the sound of arguing. The pain in his chest had receded and he was fine for the moment, wide-awake and aware, but he kept his eyes closed and did not move.  
  
"We must move on! I can feel the need for haste in my mind"  
  
"Well that's grand my fair king, but what about our wounded elf lying over there. We shan't just leave without him, and without our horses, how do you propose we carry him all the way to Rohan?"  
  
"Oh stop it, the both of you! Legolas is healing fast, as you can see, which means we shall be resuming our journey once again, and once we get out of this blasted forest I shall be able to call Shadowfax to me and have him round up your lost steeds. Does that satisfy both of your needs? Hmmm?"  
  
"That is splendid. Thank you Gandalf, you always have a solution in that complex head of yours. You are surely our light in these dark and dreary times. Now, we must see to our sleeping friend."  
  
"Oh leave him in peace Aragorn. You said yourself that we must use haste, well then leave Legolas be and let him heal as he knows how."  
  
"Calm down Gimli. Why don't you and Aragorn go and rest while I keep watch, for it is dusk, and night is coming. You will need your sleep as we will most likely be leaving tomorrow."  
  
"Rest? Rest, you say! I'm a Dwarf you fool old wizard! My kind is strong and resilient; we don't need sleep! We are cunning with keen senses and acute stamina! We-"  
  
"Fool old wizard! I'll show what a fool old wizard I am you-"  
  
Trying to hide the amused smile on his face, Legolas sat up and chose this time to break into the heated argument going on, "My friends, I think this is all quite unnecessary. I am fine, and I choose to be the first shift to stand watch tonight. I shall let the rest of you catch up on your much needed sleep," Gimli, though quite surprised and thoroughly pleased, glared at Legolas when he came to this statement, "Yes, even you, my proud dwarf. Everyone needs to rest sometime, even I." But then, Legolas stopped and slowly, careful not to disturb his still healing wound, stood up. He walked over to stand in front of Gandalf the White, clasping arms with him. "It is good to have you back my friend. I thought it not possible, and all your surprises exhausted, but you have proved me wrong. And I am glad." Legolas gave Gandalf a genuine caring look, telling him how much he had grieved and missed with wise old wizard. And with that, he turned around and looked above him, eyeing one of the low branches. In one fluid motion Legolas sprung up and grabbed hold of it, swinging himself around and over it to land on the upper side, where he could comfortably squat and keep watch.  
  
Gandalf looked up to where the elf that had just been in front of him now resided and shook his head. He always enjoyed the company of elves, but Legolas in particular was truly a joy to journey with. He was considerate of his companions, kind, grateful, always aware with his keen elvish senses, and a fierce warrior; very useful to have around. Gandalf could name many redeeming qualities about the elf above him in the trees, but decided to put his turning mind to rest and sleep. Aragorn, future king, and Gimli son of Gloin had decided to surrender to their exhaustion as well. Soon three out of four of the traveling companions were sleeping soundly on the forest floor, while Legolas kept a valiant watch above in the trees, now ready for anything Father Fate could throw at him.  
  
The soft light of the golden sun shone upon the rugged face of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. He slowly opened his eyes to meet the sunrise of the new dawn, squinting against the bright, radiant shine of the morning sun. He silently sat up, reaching into his shirt pocket for some lembas while looking around him for his companions. Gandalf and Gimli were both sleeping peacefully on the earthen floor of the forest still. Suddenly Aragorn checked himself, Legolas should be here on the floor sleeping. If Gandalf and Gimli were still sleeping, that meant Legolas had not woken them during the night to take on their second and third watch. He himself had not been woken either, which meant Legolas had stayed up the whole night with no sleep, enabling them to rest. He was too kind, almost foolish. The wound would not heal properly if he did not rest. Aragorn immediately jumped up from the floor and looked above him to the trees where he knew Legolas solemnly resided. As he had thought, Legolas was sitting on a large branch connected to a tree close to their camp. He had climbed up to a higher bough than the one he had initially jumped onto. His back was resting against the trunk of the large tree and his long elven legs were stretched out in front of him. He was singing softly to himself in the high boughs of the tree's canopy. His voice mingled with the soft wind that blew by, rustling the elf's elegant blond hair, and it slowly floated down to touch Aragorn's limited human ears. He could not make out what Legolas was saying but he could tell that even though the elf seemed detached in his singing, he was fully aware that Aragorn had woken.  
  
The sound of soft singing ceased as Legolas looked down to see his friend Aragorn staring up at him. He knew that Aragorn had discovered what Legolas had done, from the disapproving look he was showing on his rough, soiled face. Legolas sighed and shook his head, averting his eyes from those of Aragorn. He knew that what he'd done was, though foolish in Aragorn's eyes, a good thing, for it let the rest of the company rest their tired minds after a tense time of healing the elf.  
  
Legolas swiftly climbed down the tree from branch to branch until he reached the lowest one, and from there he swung down to land gracefully in front of his friend. But though his landing was light and smooth, the jolt as his padded feet hit the floor caused a sharp pain to bolt through his body. From his aching wound through his head, giving him a dizzying headache as well as causing his wound to start bleeding lightly, as it opened up a little. But though Aragorn could not see the blood soak through the bandage over the wound which was under Legolas' clothes, he could see Legolas visibly pale to an unnatural color. And faster than Legolas could shoot, Aragorn's annoyance turned into genuine worry for his injured friend. He hurridly rushed to Legolas' side as his step faltered for a moment, and his breathing quickened. But Legolas' eyes were blazing a warning of pride and determination as he straightened. Aragorn was not fooled though, and he knew that Legolas was pained by his wound.  
  
Legolas met the concerned gray eyes of Aragorn and gave a small smile to his dear friends needless worry. This show of humor and affection on the fair elf's face eased Aragorn's mind greatly, and he was content to leave the injured Legolas and wake the others.  
  
  
  
A/N: I hope you like so far. If so~ YAY! If not ~ Poo. Well anyway, don't freak out cause I have more on the way real soon. Reviews are appreciated. Thank you so much. 


	3. Moving On

1.1 CHAPTER 3  
  
Legolas watched silently, a small grin on his lips, as the future king of Gondor walked to the side of the softly snoring dwarf. Aragorn bent as though to wake him, then thought better of it and straightened, heading toward the form of Gandalf.  
  
The new dawn shown pink and gold through the canopy of the forest, giving soft light to the glade. And its essence of early innocence, and the beauty of the dew covered grass and flowers calmed the sore spirits of the four companions, though unaware they may be. Legolas breathed deeply the passing wind, carrying the scents of the forest and unknown lands, and sighed in peace. He watched as Aragorn made his way to Gandalf's seemingly sleeping form. When Gandalf's eyes opened quite suddenly, and Aragorn, who was leaning over him, jumped nearly five feet in the air, very startled. At this Legolas laughed. He laughed with his whole body, his smile wide and innocent, the sound of it floating lightly and beautifully toward the heavens. Gandalf laughed at this as well, but his laughter was not quite as musical, though wonderful in its own sense. It had been quite a while since anyone in the fellowship had any reason to laugh. And even this meager excuse was enough to lighten their spirits. Aragorn was still disgruntled, but a smile was spreading across his rugged face as well.  
  
The sound of mirth and laughing was enough to wake Gimli, and he groggily sat up, quite lost as to why his three companions were laughing so. His bushy eyebrows knitted together in a frown, but it was only from his confusion.  
  
"What is this nonsense? Legolas? Aragorn? Gandalf – have you all finally gone mad? I was afraid this would happen, especially to one such as an elf, who barely holds any sanity in the first place." Gimli said this with a serious face, but his eyes glinted with laughter, and it eventually broke into his features as he caught Legolas glaring in the same humorous manner towards him. He stood up and walked stiffly towards his elven friend. "Peace my friend, you know I meant nothing by it." Gimli flashed a mischievous grin towards Legolas, who cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sure all elves aren't as queer as you!" At this Gimli laughed gruffly and proceeded turn and run from the fuming Elf before him.  
  
Legolas' eyes narrowed as Gimli began to run from him, knowing he would be hurt severely if he lingered. Legolas let an evil smile cross his features as he swiftly took off after the dwarf, threatening him along the way.  
  
"Why you undersized fiend! You are an insult to the stature of all dwarves! When I say "stature" I mean in respect and size you bearded little orc! I'll hang you upside down from a tree and never let you down!" At this the grinning elf caught up with Gimli and, true to his word, he grabbed the back of his armor, halting him sharply in his tracks. And in one smooth flowing motion, proceeded to slip his arms under those of the dwarf and jumped straight up, Gimli in his arms yelling in surprise, to catch hold of a low branch. He swiftly deposited Gimli upon the branch, which was actually quite high in normal standards, and before Gimli could process what Legolas had done, the elf was once again safe on the ground. This all happened so fast Gimli was still in shock and the other two were merely gaping at the elf and stranded dwarf.  
  
Legolas looked up calmly, admiring his handiwork. He turned to look at Aragorn and Gandalf noticing the amused grins upon their faces and he allowed himself another look at the panicking dwarf and he laughed again.  
  
"You are quite heavy friend dwarf, perhaps you should shed that armor you are scarce without." Legolas' voice held laughter in it, though he contained it well.  
  
But Gimli did not even attempt to remain calm; he was panicking and quite mad. "Get me down from here Elf! I swear I'll cleave that fair head off your shoulders if you don't get me out of this accursed tree!" Gimli yelled desperately toward his companion, but he seemed to be very serious in his threat at that. Legolas only shook his head and turned to look upon his trusted friend.  
  
"Should I let him down just yet, Aragorn? Or does he need more time in the trees so that he knows to think again before insulting an elf? I personally believe he blends well with the boughs of a tree." He turned his head to glance again at the despairing dwarf, laughter in his glistening blue eyes. He turned again to meet the gray eyes of Aragorn who merely shook his head.  
  
"You truly are a child at heart Legolas. You must learn to control your mischievous nature sometimes. But I must say, it does result in a good laugh." Aragorn looked up at Gimli, who had heard his last comment.  
  
"Ha! A good laugh at whose expense, future king!" Gimli growled this, but it was clearly audible to the ears of the other three companions.  
  
"I should say, Legolas, you are quite an amusing fellow. But I assume it is time we move on, so I must ask you to let our dear dwarf down from that branch." Legolas smiled at Gandalf, but proceeded to carry out his wishes.  
  
The elf jogged towards the trunk of the tree in which Gimli sat, and smoothly climbed up its length, jumping from the green covered bark of the trunk to a low branch, and from there he jumped to the one in which Gimli resided. There the dwarf sat, arms folded across his chest, absolutely furious. But though he begrudged his elf companion at the moment, he let Legolas pick him up, and against loud protests, Legolas jumped from the high bough, dwarf in his arms.  
  
Legolas landed smoothly and lightly on the forest floor, and Gimli though grateful, was already talking in anger towards him. Gimli was glad to be on the ground again, standing on his own two feet, rather that in a "foolish tree" of Legolas'. But Legolas was not listening. He swayed slightly on his feet, slender legs barely holding him up, his eyes crossing and uncrossing as dizziness and a throbbing ache hit his head. He tried to hide his sudden illness, and was partially successful for Aragorn had turned to speak about their road ahead with Gandalf. But Gimli noticed right away his friend's unease and the fact that he was leaning his weight against the worried dwarf. All words of anger and humorous banter had ceased and now only genuine concern showed in his eyes.  
  
Legolas' own blue ones shone dimly into those of this friend, his mind slowly slipping into unconsciousness, and only in an effort of will, did he straighten, the light of the elves inside of him giving strength to his spirit. He looked down to his friend and smile, wordlessly giving solace to him. The he spoke softly.  
  
"Do not worry so over my condition friend dwarf. I shall heal swiftly. Let us continue our quest and pursue of out hobbit friends and think nothing more of this." Legolas was almost pleading, or as close as it came for an elf, for Gimli to drop it. But the dwarf understood and said nothing, though his eyes looked skeptical.  
  
Then, together, the Three Hunters and Gandalf the White, broke camp, and set out once again to continue their perilous journey.  
  
A/N: YAY! Another finished chapter. Hoped you liked it. Thank you all for all my reviews, and please I wouldn't mind more. REVIEWS MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND AND ROUND! ROUND AND ROUND! ROUND AND… ahem. Excuse me. :P Should I stop it here or keep on going? (The fic I mean) :D 


	4. To Watch Dreaming

CHAPTER 4  
  
There was a heavy feeling in the air, the darkness of the night undaunted by the shining moon and stars. It was a night of evil, and Aragorn could feel it. His gray eyes searched the surroundings, probing, waiting for anything out of the ordinary. He knew something was going to happen this night, he just wasn't sure what or in what form. And this put him ill at ease. He had volunteered for the first watch that night, and he was glad more than ever that he had, for now he could protect his companions - his friends. Aragorn turned slowly, from the forest surrounding him, to glance upon his companions and flinched mightily upon hearing his own back pop. Age hadn't caught up with the agile ranger's body yet, but it had its own way of reminding him it was still there.  
  
His clear gray eyes swept over the resting travelers. They first came to rest on a very disgruntled Gimli. After the stunt Legolas had pulled that morning he had been very edgy and not in an exactly exemplary mood. At the moment though, he was sleeping soundly, lying flat upon the forest floor, his pack tucked under his head. Aragorn couldn't help smiling at the sound of soft snores emitting from his frame.  
  
Then there was Gandalf. Aragorn had been beyond glad and even further startled to see Gandalf when he had suddenly appeared in the forest. But he couldn't have come at a better time. He may be as good a healer as Elrond, but Aragorn was not a god. He could not work with nothing. And so Gandalf had helped him to heal Legolas and return him to health. The wizard was now resting comfortably, back against a near tree, his hands folded in his lap and his head hung forward. His thick gray beard hung loosely down the front of his white robe and his long, wild hair was tied behind him in a low ponytail. Aragorn sighed to himself, realizing once again that the quest would have been lost long ago had it not been for the Maia.  
  
But now, Aragorn's eyes finally settled on the elf, lying straight against the earthen floor, legs crossed over one another in a light doze. As all elves do, his eyes were open as he slept, an almost unnoticeable film over their absent stare. But, something seemed to flicker the elf's pool blue eyes, something cold and terrifying. To any onlooker, Legolas' resting pose would have seemed nothing out of the ordinary. But to Aragorn's sharp, knowing eyes, he could tell something was very wrong. Aragorn frowned. The elf's body was stiff, unmoving, and he could not see the rise and fall of his chest.  
  
Suddenly, Aragorn became worried with the unthinkable and silently jumped to his feet. His brows knotted together as he made his way swiftly to the side of the elf, ignoring his duty as watch. He slowly studied Legolas' body, sighing in relief when he noticed the slight and shallow intake of breath of the figure. The immortal's body was tense, rigid, and Aragorn started when he noticed sweat glean on the fair brow of his friend. He frowned deeper with concern as he looked into the elf's eyes. He pushed a stray lock of his dark hair behind his ear and studied Legolas further.  
  
The ranger suddenly stood up as his intense gray eyes met the gleaming blue ones of the elf. He heard his own sharp intake of breath as he looked on. Legolas' eyes were startling. They seemed to hold a panic in them, a nameless fear. Though it was not visible to the untrained eye, after spending his whole life among elves, Aragorn could tell that Legolas was having a dream – or a nightmare. The pupils in the glazed eyes in front of him were dilated, their obvious confusion and absent look of horror unnerving. Aragorn could not break his gaze away from that of the icy eyed elf.  
  
The ranger managed to shake him self away though, then bent down to the side of Legolas, resolved to wake the tormented elf.  
  
But he didn't get the chance for suddenly, with a sharp gasp of pain, Legolas bolted upright, startled from his horrid nightmare. Legolas looked around wildly, searching for something of recognition. His eyes finally came to rest on those of Aragorn. The ranger could not keep his face emotionless, and involuntarily took a step back, the shock and concern showing plain on his face. As he looked into eyes ruled by wild terror and panic of one who has seen the end of all beings, and of himself.  
  
"Aragorn…" Legolas' fair voice was weak, soft with relief and renewed hope, and tinted with an undertone of a conquered fear. Exhaustion radiated from the lithe frame of the elf. As if he had just witnessed the greatest trauma in his thousands of years; as if he had just fought a gruesome battle lasting many a year, he seemed too wearied to even stay awake. At that moment, Legolas did not seem immortal. He was any other human having a bad dream. Aragorn wanted to go to him, comfort him – but he warned himself against the pride of the elves.  
  
Suddenly something in the ranger's mind clicked, and his intense eyes shot up to meet those of the elf. But it was too late, and no sooner had Aragorn taken a breath, Legolas was clutching his wound, eyes wide in pain and taking sharp intakes of gasping breath. His face contorted in pain as he gazed mindlessly ahead, eyes unseeing of the man in front of him, hands groping at the wound that was now healed over. Then, all too soon, it had ended, and Legolas had collapsed again against the forest floor.  
  
Elrond's foster son stared, mouth agape at the convulsing elf in front of him, at a total loss on how he should react. But before he could do anything, Legolas' form was once again still, and his eyes glazed over to the absent gaze of sleep they took on every night.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Hey everyone, sorry about the shortness of this chapter, and the long amount of time it took for me to update. And thank you all for the reviews! MORE. I LOVE it. Umm, yeah, I would have written more for this chap. but I don't get a lot of time with school and finals and all. So I decided to just leave it here and send it out to keep you all happy and sated. I can just make the rest of what is supposed to be this chap. next chap. Very well then, type to you all soon. Oh, and I may not be very soon, probably not until school is over actually – sorry. You understand, school and all. Well, later. And REVIEWS PLEASE! (  
  
  
  
Ithilien ~ Don't worry, I don't really know where that last chapter was going either, I'm just typin' as ideas come along. Hehe. Well, here another useless chapter, up just for you.  
  
( Oh and I LURVE your stories, I'm so glad one of my favorite authors likes my stories!  
  
keeper-of-grace ~ Thank you for the review and I'm glad you liked it. *big smile*  
  
JastaElf ~ Well don't worry, you soon find out about that little dream *grin*. Hope you like the new installment. Thanks again!  
  
Tara ~ *literally tearing* ( I am SOOOOOO happy you like my fic!!! Really! I appreciate your review very much; hope to hear from you again.  
  
PepperVL ~ Don't you worry you little head about Legolas there *evil grin*, he'll be JUST fine… we hope. J/K. Thank you SO much for the review. Keep checking in and you'll soon see where this is going. : D  
  
Erin-21 ~ Sorry my friend, no romance. But I'm glad you still like it. And thank you for reviewing on my other story "Another Path". I'm gonna try to update soon on that, but I kinda have a writer's block up here *points to oddly shaped head*. ; P But thank you again for the wonderful review. 


	5. Friendship Grows Thin

1 A/N: Um, ok. After I wrote the first few paragraphs and reread them, I'd decided I'd make this note to y'all. K, here it is ~ I want you all to pretend that the companions felt real safe in Fangorn Forest and didn't need to post guards. Um, well yeah… hehe. *sweatdrop and nervous laugh* ;P  
  
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4 CHAPTER 5  
  
The bright pinks, oranges, and yellows of the early sunrise fell slowly over the land shining softly against the treetops of Fangorn forest. The cold dew of morning upon proud green leaves, opening to the day, was soon beaten by the glowing brilliance of the sun. The rays of yellow light shone through the canopy, and the gloom of the forest was lifted, if for only a brief moment. The surrounding leaves and trees and forms of forest life gave the harsh golden rays a soft embracing green tint, and at last, the sun's early light shone innocently against the shockingly intense blue eyes of the peacefully sleeping Elf prince of Mirkwood. The purest color of blue sky could not be seen above, if so, only barely, but it was there. The welcome respite of day from the perilous nighttime caution.  
  
With the sunrise upon him, the eyes of the archer fluttered and blinked. Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, the Elf blinked a few more times before he came to focus upon the sight in front of him. His beautiful mouth curved into a smile and his fair face contorted in utter peace and happiness. He did not mind showing his emotions plainly upon his elvish features when there was no one to see, no one to interrupt. He looked serenely upon the sight of the forest canopy above him, leaves rustling and playing in the wind, boughs swaying to their own dance and song. The princeling's smile widened as he watched dust fairies fly and dance about in the golden and green shaded shafts of sunlight shining through the treetops. The deep forest aura put his mind, body and soul at complete peace. The smell of the moist earth, the smell of far away grasses on the breeze, the feel of it as it passed over him, leading his long blond curtain of hair in its own dance, each soft strand fluttering and flowing in the cool, playful wind.  
  
Legolas almost laughed. But though he kept his tongue, he edges of his fair blue eyes crinkled in his mirth, and his grin widened to an innocent smile.  
  
Legolas was sure that his companions would be in slumber for a few hours yet, and so, he raised himself from his forest bed and proceeded to walk silently from their campsite. Where his path through the forest led, he knew not, but on a morning such as this, the Elf could not resist in exploration.  
  
He breathed deeply the scents of the surrounding wood, and his sharp eyes looked curiously about him. They caught every little movement of the leaves, every fleeting color of green and gold upon the trunks of the ancient trees, every disguised animal and insect. He looked about him and felt at home, at one with the forest.  
  
No, it was not the forest of Mirkwood, where he had grown up. They were not the same trees, nor was the course of the great river the same. But this forest seemed more home at that moment than Mirkwood ever had, and the lighthearted wood-Elf could not help himself as with a great intake of excited breath, he leaped into the great branches of the trees above him.  
  
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With the serenity of the sunrise and the forest, Legolas had completely forgotten about his earlier dream. Which was most likely all the better. But now, as the Elf sat motionless on the high branch of a fir tree, silent as the passing breeze, watching his companions rise from their, if not comfortable –restful – slumber, it all came unbidden to his mind. He remembered it vividly, though he wished with all his being that he did not. It was similar to the one he had had while he was wounded. He did not know what they meant. The darkness of Moria, Smeagol plus Frodo and the ring; the boat and the sea of blood, the battle field where he found Gimli dead; Frodo stabbing him… it was all so real. But the archer desperately pushed the unpleasant thoughts to the back of his mind as he watched his ranger friend, whom he had known many long years, awake from his light sleep.  
  
Legolas sighed lightly. Oh, how he wished his heart were at ease as it was that morning. He shook his head with sad smile at his wistful thinking. His heart would never be at ease again, not after this quest. Not until evil was banished from the land completely and forever. And when would that be? Legolas sighed again, heavier this time.  
  
The time Legolas had had to himself that morning had been precious and well used. It gave him time to think. He had mused solemnly over the previous morning.  
  
He did not know what had come over him. He supposed that he had just had the urge to comfort his companions. He had humorously showed his friends that he was perfectly fine, but he suspected no one was fooled, especially not Gimli. Legolas could not stop the grin that came to his face in memory of the comical antics his dear Dwarf-friend had displayed that morning. Never in his life had the Elf heard Gimli wail that desperately. Legolas chuckled to himself. But his laughter died as another thought came unbidden to his mind. He remembered gravely his weakness the few moments after his stunt. The archer was angry with himself for having such weakness. He had been injured before on expeditions through Mirkwood. This was no different.  
  
Legolas lowered his eyes to study the intricate lines of the wood under him, carved by time. He knew he was lying to himself, this was different and he knew it. He knew his companions suspected something; Aragorn might even have figured it out. Legolas smiled to himself. Aragorn would make a wonderful future king. He was learned and master in the ways of the Elves: tracking, healing, perception… no, his senses were not as keen as an actual Elf, but being raised by them, his senses were surely close.  
  
Legolas knew of the concerned looks, though he tried to disguise them, that Gimli shot him every once and a while as they traveled carefully through the forest. He heard the quickening of Gandalf's heart whenever he glanced at the Elf. He interpreted Aragorn's careful actions toward him. He understood why they were worried, but he also believed it needless.  
  
Legolas finally stirred himself from his thoughts as the other two hunters awoke from their slumber. Aragorn was already packed and had started in putting together a quick breakfast. He had glanced at the surrounding forest many a time, searching for the Elf he had not found upon the ground when he had woken. His storm gray eyes were anxious, but he busied him self with work around their camp. Legolas had already gone back earlier and packed his own things, and in this the ranger found comfort that his friend was safe. But still he searched vainly the trees with his eyes. Legolas smiled grimly to himself, knowing no Human eye could find the figure of a disguised Elf in the forest.  
  
Suddenly though, at the sight of Aragorn's troubled eyes turned toward the surrounding Wood, something spurred in Legolas' memory. Where had he seen that look before? It was not the thoughtful, troubled look that his mortal friend wore often, but something different, something Legolas and Legolas alone had seen somewhere. It held worry, it held hope, it held… fear. The Elf that sat on his haunches in the branches of the trees tensed visibly, and a keen eye would have noticed the slight movement behind the leaves of the forest. Legolas eyes widened, his intense, pure blue orbs staring fixedly at the form of Arathorn's son below him. Legolas remembered where he had seen those eyes.  
  
Last night…  
  
Legolas frowned at his realization. Aragorn had been there last night when he had suddenly woken from his horrible dream. He shut his eyes tightly at the memory of the pain he had undergone. He had felt as if his whole body had been on fire, he could not control his own limbs, he could only gaze wide eyed at his dear friend, standing terrified, horrified in front of him. He remembered how the darkness had griped his soul, how it had taken him deep into the evil places of the world and his mind.  
  
Legolas felt himself bite his lip and clench his hands until his knuckles were white. This memory was too hard, and Aragorn had been there to witness it. The ranger would have to be incredibly dense to not know something was wrong with him now.  
  
Finally, Legolas only shook his head and desperately pushed the memory far into the recesses of his mind, where he could easily forget it and focus on the present.  
  
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The Elf must have suddenly deemed it time to enter the camp again for just as Gimli was about to go looking for his ever elusive friend, there he was standing right in front of him. The Dwarf flinched so hard he could have broken his own axe had he been holding it in his hands. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from crying out in surprise.  
  
Legolas smiled at the distress he could visibly see upon his friends face. This was of course the desired affect he had intended as he had leaped silently from the boughs to land in front of the Dwarf. He had nearly frightened Gimli out of his wits. Legolas could not hold back a chuckle as he watched the changing looks upon his friends face as it melted from utter surprise to fuming anger. The mischievous Elf could hardly hold back a laugh, but he sullenly let his face turn neutral as he met the disapproving gaze of Aragorn and the good-natured amused look upon Gandalf's wizened features.  
  
Legolas smiled lightly, trying to ease his Human friend's worry, but Aragorn only frowned at him, eyes speaking to him more than words could. An uneasy silence settled thickly over the camp and the grin upon the son of Thranduil's fair face slowly melted away. Legolas' mind raced – should he speak?  
  
The ranger's eyes battle with those of the Elf, but neither would look away. They traded silent words with one another – harsh they be, but real. Their forged friend ship over long years and deep knowledge of each other played thin. It was a battle of will. One – Aragorn – wished for Legolas to speak of this dilemma and tell them what could be done, how he was injured; his eyes were of all concern – pleading. The other – Legolas – spoke of denial and exasperation, how he was perfectly fine, how he wished for the ranger to leave him be; his eyes were of pride and annoyance.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Legolas caught Gimli watching, sharply turning his head from Human to Elf, suspicious, worried angry… of all things confused. And he could just see Gandalf shake his head slowly, sadly. Both knew this was getting them nowhere – and that it did nothing for their poor hobbit friends. But still, neither relented their struggle.  
  
Legolas knew of what Aragorn pleaded to him, but with all his being he would refuse. Elves were not so weak; he would surely heal soon. Gandalf and Gimli had no need to know. Finally, the future King of Gondor turned his eyes away and slumped his shoulder, utterly defeated. Legolas' icy blue eyes blazed after him as he turned away to face the other two of the remaining fellowship.  
  
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"Legolas, what is wrong? I have never seen such a defiant look in your eyes as you glared at Aragorn then. Has something happened that I should know of?" Gimli's eyes narrowed as he looked up at his Elf friend. They had been talking lightly and softly as they walked through the Wood, set out once again, when he had decided to bring up the subject of that morning.  
  
Legolas had been unusually quiet, as he usually felt compelled to break into song when surrounded by the healthy forest on a day such as this. But at his comment, Gimli received only an unseemly grunt from him friend. Gimli frowned, only slightly put off at his companion's lack of answer. He looked up and his deep brown eyes firmly locked with the shocking pools of blue of the Elf beside him. There it was again: that pleading look. It was well disguised, but distinguishable. Only this time, there was a glint of malice associated with it, as though Legolas was exasperated with the Dwarf, annoyed. It was quite unlike the calm, mild, light-hearted, mischievous Legolas Gimli knew and loved. Gimli looked up sadly and only with a hint of anger at this new, cold elf that had replaced his dear friend in the last few days. 'Ever since he was shot with that damned arrow…' the Dwarf thought to himself.  
  
"Aragorn, would you accompany me for a moment, I wish to speak with you." Gandalf's gruff voice sailed across the road to the ranger. The only response he received was a quick nod and brisk steps leading toward he Maia. Legolas turned his head sharply to look at his Dwarven companion, his curtain of platinum blond hair flowing like silk around his features as he turned his face. Gimli exchanged the questioning glance shot toward him.  
  
But whatever god their was watching over Ilúvatar's children, and ruled over the timing of events, seemed to think it ironic to choose that exact moment to pick on a single Elf named Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil. For at that moment, when Mithrandir called the heir to Gondor to him to speak softly of Legolas' plight, that devious god chose for Legolas' illness to take control of his body and mind, rendering him senseless in unimaginable pain. But before the fair Elf's body convulsed and he passed out unto the earthen floor, one thought ran through his head. 'Darkness… all around me. I feel… confined. It is as though I am in the dreaded Moria once again! This cannot be! My dream…?  
  
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Gimli watched in horror as his dear friend's features contorted in a nameless pain, an unmentionable horror, his eyes filled with fear… and dread. The dwarf managed to run to his companion's side as he fell, calling the names of his fellow hunters to him.  
  
Gimli watched, bewildered, mortified, terrified, as Legolas' clear, bright blue Elven eyes seemed to turn gray, then darker, then… black. It was as if they were slowly filling with he black ink of evil.  
  
What was happening? Aragorn and Gandalf came to stand beside their stricken Dwarven companion, and looked down upon the fallen archer upon the forest floor.  
  
  
  
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A/N: Hey all, thanks SOOO much for the reviews, hope you like this chapter. ( Another is coming soon, I promise. I hadn't thought I would have much time to write this with finals and all, but I seem to just make time (while not finishing my assignments, hehe). I'm just addicted to this story!  
  
ANNNNNYWAY… I really appreciate all the reviews. MORE MORE!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry about the shortness of all my chapters, I'm gonna try and fix that. ^.^ later.  
  
Lady V ~ I fixed the little elf / Elf problem. ;P Hope you like the rest of it!  
  
Tara ~ This next chapter is for YOU my friend. :D I'm so glad you like it. I swear, you reviews turn my frown UPSIDE DOWN! (  
  
Analorien ~ Thank you for the wonderful review my friend. MORE!  
  
Blayze ~ I appreciate your review SOOOOO much you have no idea. It really made my day when I read it. I am SO glad you like my fic. (YAY, I have a fan!) But, please don't hunt me down… *fearful voice* LOL 


	6. A Path Through Darkness

A/N: May I start out by saying I am SOOOOO sorry to all of you who read my stories: for "The Pain of Friendship" and "Leagvala". I was going to post an announcement saying that I would be gone for two months to a wilderness trip - which goes without saying means I would have no access to a computer. So, to those of you who are mad at me, you have every right to be. I didn't update for two months without a word to you. And now I pay - but please. pretty please?. still review! ;) :P I pumped the rest of this chapter out as soon as I could (I had started it before I left), so as to please my reviewers. I hope. Uh, heheh. Well anyway, I hope you like this installment - and again, please forgive me. Oh, and don't for get to REVIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWW!!! :D  
  
P.S. ~ If anyone, after reading this chapter, thinks that I made Legolas a crybaby, I would like to set the record straight. The situations I put him in are very trying and I am sure any other person set with same circumstances would be totally bawling rather than letting discreet tears fall and silently weeping. So, anyhoo, ENJOY! :)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
He floated. Alone, lost, and blissfully oblivious to all around him. And he floated, limbs free, mind blank. The silence of the black abyss he was held suspended in was one minor detail his uncomprehending mind came to notice. No sound, no sight, no smell, and there was naught to touch. As though he was all alone in a sea of nothingness. But suddenly, the darkness of the empty abyss began to swallow him, cover him, enclose him within its inky blackness. His eyes snapped open, but they saw naught, for there was naught to see. His before lifeless body began to struggle, arms flailed, legs kicked. He could feel it creeping over him, holding him down encompassing him. The darkness began to seep into him; he could feel it - sense it - begin to attack his soul, sucking away the light of his Thule. The pain. it was unbearable! No! It must not take him, it was trying to rob him of what he held dear as an elf - his light, his soul, his passion, his life.  
  
Legolas screamed. But it was completely swallowed into the darkness, and he could not even hear his own cry. He kept screaming, he could hear it in his mind, the sound of his own agony, his own despair - but it did not meet his ears. Soon his voice faltered, he grew hoarse, though it could not be heard, and he stopped. And he began to weep.  
  
Was this how it was to end? Would he die like this, with his own soul ripped from his body, stolen by the darkness that held the light of his heart and let it dim, then die. And the tears would not stop. But now he knew not he was weeping, he only heard the echoes of his own screams in his mind, and felt the agony of the black about him, tearing him apart - bit by painful bit. This was worse than any orc torture he could possibly fathom. He writhed in the unending pain, the searing agony, and his head hung in defeat, as he let his own remorse and despair wash over him. So much, so many, his loved ones, his home.  
  
Where was his home? Whom did he love? He shook his head, he. he could not remember. He knew there were those he wished to see, one last time. but who! Who cared? There was only darkness now. Only pain, despair, emptiness - there was nothing left for him. Why would he care what was left behind.  
  
And then, something clicked. The darkness, it was familiar. his dream! This was like. like. where was it he had been? What was it he had been doing? His thoughts swirled within his mind, confused, delusional. Suddenly, a sound.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
Who?  
  
"Legolas? Legolas!"  
  
Who was Legolas?  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
Why did he recognize that name? Who was Legolas? He shook his head again, as if trying to rid himself of this endless uncertainty, this confusion.  
  
"Legolas! Please."  
  
There it was again, faintly, but there. That voice - so pleading, so sincere. Who did it call for? Who was Legolas? Why did he hear it? When he thought he was all alone in this deep private hell, where the inky darkness abounds. Why. who? And then,  
  
". come back to me, Legolas."  
  
Legolas. Legolas. He was Legolas. HE was Legolas! He opened his eyes again, but this time it was not just an abyss of black. There. so far away, but there - a light. Legolas struggled anew, the Elvin endurance and fiery resistance to all that is evil stirred within him. But this time, he had hope. And with hope, came strength. The strength to over come unimaginable odds, and so now, Legolas called upon that strength. And slowly, he freed himself of the darkness that clung so firmly to him. It tried to hold him in place, but he fought it. He could sense its dread as it lost its hold on its prey; he could feel it wail in his mind, and for a moment that stopped him. He was almost free, but the screaming pain inside his head echoed far and deep, and he doubled over, hands pressed firmly against his ears. Trying to block the sound out, but it was in his head, and he screamed, just as he had before, in pitiful agony, in utter despair. And though he could feel his Thule being stripped from him anew, his memory of the light, his memory of being free of this horrible emptiness - fueled him. And with one step, he came closer. The wails of sorrow became louder in his mind, and he screamed again in pain, but he took another step. And with each step, the wailing grew louder, but with each step, it grew further away, and he came closer to his freedom. He was Legolas, prince of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil, and he was one of the Fellowship of the Ring, sworn to protect Frodo the ring bearer and all who were of the company. But, he had become lost. how had he become lost? And now his wails joined that of the dark. He was lost in this eternal blackness! He could not see the light, how was he to get out! No!!! But,  
  
"Legolas."  
  
And suddenly, as his pleading, tear stained eyes looked up; penetrating the darkness, he saw again the light. His fair face, lit in a wide smile. Once again, there was hope. Legolas, trudging through the sea of nothingness summoned all his last strength for a last attempt at freedom. This could not go on forever and his endurance was ebbing, slowly failing him. He must escape this silent prison of doom now, or it would never be done. And as he took another step, he mentally wept, screamed, prayed, hoped. then jumped.  
  
The final wails and screeches of dread and despair that echoed in his head abruptly stopped. Legolas opened his eyes. He stood at the edge of a cliff. He could see where the sturdy earth suddenly fell off. He looked down. black. There was only darkness - Legolas shuddered. His eyes traveled to his own feet - wait - his own feet. he could see! The thought sunk in. He had escaped! It was gone, the clinging darkness was gone! He wanted to cry out with joy, but held his tongue, as he still did not know where he had gone. His gaze then wandered to his hands. He held them out in front of himself; they faintly glowed of their own light. His light - he had regained his Thule. he was whole again. Legolas hugged himself, arms wrapped around thin chest, and he fell to his knees upon the hard stone ground. Tears of relief and joy slid from beneath his tightly shut eyes. The utter and complete sorrow he had felt when the darkness had managed to rip his soul and body had been nearly unbearable, he had begged whoever had been listening to let him die. The feeling of total emptiness was unlike anything he had ever felt, for he had always had his light within him to call upon for strength and comfort, and it had been stripped from him. He forced himself not to remember the ordeal. He opened his eyes once again and managed to stagger into a standing position again. He cautiously turned around, and a bleak sight met his eyes. There was only gray walls, shadows of black, once magnificent white pillars and halls. It. it was Moria! Legolas' eyes widened, and his lips parted in a silent gasp - his dream! This was in his dream! He was here again, suspended in his world of dreams. But this time, there was no Frodo, there was no ring, and there was no Gandalf. Only the dim gray stone of the Moria chambers and walls. Legolas' head snapped from side to side, looking for anyone, anything familiar, comforting - anything that could help him. But there was naught. His eyes darkened in defeat and he lowered his head, his shoulders slumped and he wanted to fall to his knees again, for he suddenly had naught the strength to stay standing.  
  
And then, he was on a peaceful beach of white sand and clear aqua seawater. There was a strong breeze that had his long pale blond locks billowing around his face, impairing his vision. He turned his face to the cool breeze and closed his eyes as he let it wash over him. He felt it pulling the light strands of his hair behind him, and it was soothing. The feel of the cool wind brushing his face let his mind relax, thus relaxing his body, and soon, a small smile graced his lips. And then there was the ocean. Legolas started as he suddenly heard the sound of something crashing against the sand. He spun to face the shore, eyes alert, but there was only the clear blue waters, white foam leading the waves, as they hit the shore. He watched, astounded, fascinated, dumbfounded as the waves of churling, bubbling water rolled and pounded against the shore, again and again. Crash after crash as they hit the magnificent white sand. There was an unmistakable rhythm about the endless pattern of waves, a slightly hidden music. But if you listened, you could hear it. The notes of the sea, perfect in their creation, the music of nature. And as Legolas stopped, and listened, his mind was lulled into light Elven dreams. But something else caught his eyes: there were colors! So many colors! As he watched, transfixed, all the colors of nature were reflected from the constantly lapping surface. There was green, so many greens, deep and light at the same time, and there were all different shades of blue: there was a pure aqua blue, a reflected sky blue, a deep midnight blue, a tranquil shade of turquoise, and still yet there were teal blues, green blues, and gray blues. Then there were other colors: there were brilliant, blinding yellows, golds, whites, there were deep and innocent oranges, there were rosy hues, and then there were dark blood red stains, reflected from the deeps of the oceans. And in some places, there seemed to be lavenders, violets, and deep purples of the midnight sky. But over all this there seemed to be a light silver sheen, making it all blend together in a swirl of brilliant blends and colors. It was so beautiful, so. breathtaking. And still, the entire sea in front of him seemed to sparkle, glittering with refractions of the warm lit sun, high in the day sky. Legolas could not repress the shaky intake of breath, but he did not try to. His eyes were wide with wonder, and his mouth absently agape at the beauty of it all. He had never in all of his long years seen anything like it. This was the sea. And suddenly, something from above caught his eye. He raised his head to look up, and there was the most magnificent creature he had ever seen. It wheeled and circled in the air high above his head. Its pure white body seeming to float and hover effortlessly in the sky above the ocean. And then it would flap its great wings, and again it would rise, and with another powerful stroke it would soar. Over the seas, over the sand, over his head, and far into his dreams. Never could he have imagined a more perfect being. Beautiful, carefree, flying high in the air, and looking down upon Middle-Earth from the safety of the sky, and from there, everything is at peace. And then, it opened its soft orange beak to let out a call. But though its beak opened, and its throat moved, no sound did Legolas hear other than the wind in his ears and the crashing waves of the sea. For all that he strained, he could not hear this bird's call. Legolas looked around wildly, why could he not hear it? His eyes were wide in desperation, but still, he did not hear its call. He wrung his hands in front of him, what could he do? He wanted to weep, for though he could see the most perfect of creatures, he could not hear its song - and he was saddened. The wind gone, the waves forgotten, Legolas looked to the sky again for his bird, but instead of a clear, pure blue sky, there were large, ominous clouds, gray and threatening. Legolas tore his eyes from the sky and let them travel to his surroundings. He was on a battlefield, after the battle had been fought. It was a bloody scene, with the wounded and the dead littering the fields all about him. They were completely covered in gore and carnage - what had taken place here? He looked down at him self. He was in light silver armor, with intricate designs across his chest and on his shoulder guards. He could feel the weight of his bow and quiver on his back, but looked down and was surprised to see his long Elven white knife in his hand. And upon his hands, as well as up his arms and upon his chest plate, and all over him for that matter, was blood. Dark red, warm, blood. Legolas sniffed. It was not orkish blood, it did not carry the foul stench, no it smelt like pure blood, that of a good soul. Suddenly, dread gripped the elf's heart. This all seemed very familiar, though he knew not where from. He tried to stop him self, as though he almost knew what he would see, but still he looked upon the ground before him. And there was Gimli. Covered in blood, much as he, only it was his own. And there the dwarf lay, motionless, careless, lifeless. Gimli was dead. Legolas stared in horror. He could not move, he could not think. He could not react; all he could do was stare. In terror, in disbelief, for his greatest and dearest friend was dead. And at his own hand. Legolas fell to his knees, eyes staring into nothingness, sightless to all around him. Only the bloody picture of his dear friend occupied his mind. And there was nothing. but shock. A terrible, heart stopping shock, and then with a roar, a crushing grief and guilt. But still, Legolas only stared. This was a grief beyond all show of emotion, beyond any tear, beyond any thought. It was not comprehensible. And all Legolas could think to do, was scream out Gimli's name, as loud as he could, unleashing his pain, as though it could bring him back.  
  
"GIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!"  
  
  
  
"Legolas? Legolas!" Gimli jumped back, startled nearly mindless when Legolas suddenly came out of his terrifying stupor and screamed his name for all it was worth. Aragorn had both hands upon the archer's face, trying to rouse him once again. Calling his name over and over. But after the sudden yell, Legolas seemed to have gone limp once again, but this time, his eyes had snapped open, and was now unconscious with open eyes. Gimli could see a nameless pain reflected within their depths, and its emotion was so powerful, Gimli had stop himself from flinging him self at his friend, but could not stop the shudder that jolted through his body. His eyes seemed, so. lifeless. What was happening to his friend? 


	7. Odd behaviors

A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back, and again, I am SOOO sorry for the hold up. I got my mom and dad really pissed at me somehow (oooooo, big surprise) and they took my comp away for the longest time, and when I got it back it wouldn't hook up into the internet, now I am still trying to get it fixed while trying to update on my parents [much nicer] computer. I know my excuses are lame and it was horrible of me to make you guys wait so long – but I hope you can forgive me_. And_ I just want you all to know I LOVE YOU!!!! Anyhoo, on with the story. Chapter 7 

"This is absurd. Legolas should have woken by now! Arg, crazy Elf! Gandalf, why does he not waken?"

"I do no know Gimli, for I know not what ails him. Yes, we are pressed for time, but we do not know what battles Legolas may be fighting right now. And until he awakens, we can do nothing but wait." 

Gimli growled. He was fearful and concerned for his friend, but of course would never voluntarily let it show, however obvious and already known it was. And so it all came off as frustration. Why would he not wake, what ailed the elf? Aragorn said that all the poison had been expelled from Legolas' system, but the elf's recent behavior said differently. Or was it even the poison? Was there anything else at work that had caused him to act so? Gimli growled again in frustration and confusion. 

Well he would not just wait. If the answers were not making themselves clear, he would find them himself. He rose gruffly from the position he had held, leaning against a near tree, and made his way over to Aragorn who was crouched beside the elf, head bent over him as he called his name softly. 

The ranger gently laid his hand against the elf's brow again. It was still cold. As old friends, Aragorn was terribly worried over his friend and could not help but feel guilty; he should have been more careful, then Legolas wouldn't have gotten shot. And he felt horrible about that morning. Now he wished more than anything that he could repair the rift between them that had begun earlier, he had not wanted their conversation or their friendship to be left off by angry words. He felt so helpless, and wished he could do something, though he knew he could not. Suddenly, Gimli was beside him, looking over his shoulder at the lithe sleeping form upon the ground. 

"Has anything changed?"

The ranger shook his head, and heard Gimli's gruff grunt at his answer.  

The dwarf was about to bend down and shake the sleeping elf, when Legolas' eyes suddenly snapped open. Gimli flinched hard and could barely suppress a cry of surprise. Aragorn started as well, but recovered quickly and gave supporting hands as Legolas sat up with a gasp. The elf was breathing hard, but awake and well. When Aragorn began to examine him for any injuries he may have missed and offered a hand to help him up, the archer only waved him off, eyes indignant. 

"Leave off, Aragorn! I am fine. I can rise by myself, thank you." And as he rose he dusted him self off and checked his body for all his weapons, obviously nursing his wounded pride. 

Aragorn frowned in confusion and frustration. Yes, the Wood Elves were well known for their pride, Legolas most of all, but it was unlike the elf to snap at him like that. The Legolas he knew never lost patience so quickly, and was usually mild, though mischievous being. Aragorn's features darkened: something was not right here. 

"Legolas, why are you acting like this? Are you well? What happened? Why will you not speak to us? You may tell us if something ails you, you know. Aragorn or Gandalf may be able to cure you, though I myself know not much of the healing arts. Is it your arrow wound that still bothers you?" 

"Enough Gimli, enough!" Legolas put his hands up defensively against the barrage of questions. And the way he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down was not missed by any of his three companions. Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head, as though trying to clear it. When he opened them he was met by three different expressions of emotions. Gimli emanated genuine concern, but also frustration; Aragorn's face held natural worry, but it also fought with suspicion – Legolas wondered at that, and anger grew in his mind; Gandalf's features were impassive and nearly impossible to read, but Legolas could see a slight frown tugging at his lips. What was it that disturbed his friends so? 

Suddenly, and unexplainable anger washed over him, and he nearly staggered under it intensity. Who were they to judge him? Where did they claim the right to mistrust him? Had he not proved him self multiple times over? Were they so selfish and unappreciative that they did not recognize all the times he saved their lives and the certain doom of the quest. Untamed wrath boiled in his blood. If they were so disloyal to him, did they truly deserve the life he had allowed them to keep so many times? Could he not take it back now, rid himself of their petty mistrust and suspicions. It would be so easy, his own skills surpassed theirs by leagues, he could just…

What were these evil thoughts invading his mind?! They were not his own! Legolas shook his head hard, trying desperately to rid him self of them. NO! He would not bow to whatever force was at work in his mind that was not his own. These were his friends, they would never do anything to harm, and never for instant did their loyalty waver. He knew this and he knew he felt the same… but then, what were those thoughts? 

Legolas looked up with blank eyes and saw Aragorn looking hard at him.  He had been calling his name and the elf had only now just heard him. He dropped his hand and he realized that unknowingly he brought them to his delicate ears, as though trying to block out something only he could hear. He looked up and his eyes met those of Aragorn's.

Aragorn's eyes widened as he watched in horror and awe as Legolas clear blue eyes suddenly darkened to the deepest black he had ever seen, as though they had been filled with black ink. And then, he watched as they cleared just as fast just as fast as they had darkened. The ranger stood frozen. The terrifying memory of the horribly evil look Legolas had given him with those black eyes was burned into his mind. He swallowed to wet his throat, dry from surprise and fear, and opened his mouth to speak. He felt shaky from the experience which had only lasted the blink of an eye, but spoke as suspicion and concern won out over surprise, fear and grief. 

"Legolas? Son of Thranduil – Legolas? Legolas!" He was finally rewarded by the confused, blank eyes of his Elven friend. "Legolas, are you well?"

The elf looked up to him and as their eyes met, both knew what his question really meant; what the ranger was truly asking. And Legolas only stared, for in truth, he knew not how to answer. 

*** 

Well, there is another chapter. I know its short, but its all I could write in a short amount of time and I guessed that you all would probably want me to update now rather than wait so much longer for a little more. And who knows when I will be able to update next, but I *swear* I will try! Anyway, I hope you like it and don't forget to REVIEW!!!

**_Ithilien:_** HEY! I was wondering when you would come back. ;P I am so glad you like it, about the whole "coming to the meaning of the title" thing, read on and you shall see my friend… MUAHAHAHAHA! Oh, and anxiously awaiting the next chapter of "The Hunting Trip". Oh and I hope you like this chap, because this ones for YOU!

**_Daylight: _**Yay! A new reader! I appreciate your review so much, it's nice to know that people actually like my fanfiction! I love you and look forward to hearing from you again.

**_anon: _**Same thing for you. I am so glad you have happened upon my story I am elated that you like it. Thank you so much for the wonderful review.

**_Lady V: _**Muahahaha indeed. Yes, I love torturing our little elf too. Aren't we horrible? *evil grin* I am really sorry about the lull there, and I hope you like this chapter! :) 

**_Nizuno Mikomi: _**HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Very funny. Yes, our elf can seem very wimpy at times, but he's not I swear! He is strong, and wise, and beautiful, and sexy, and deadly, and sleek, and immortal, and sexy….. *drool* 

**_grimlock: _**Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much your reviews mean to me!

**_Gimli der Zwerg:_** I am so glad that this is not the typical angst for you! I go for uniqueness and I'm glad that someone else appreciates it. Thank you so so much for the wonderful review. I look forward to hearing from you again. 

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**_Blayze:_** I love you. What else is there to say? I just plain love you. You always make my day with your wonderifical (like my new word) reviews! :D I will try to update more often for you. 


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